


Crush

by PorcelainLove



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Hints of Prompto/Noctis, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Showers make an appearance because I am in love with water, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hints of Gladio/Ignis, intercrural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 01:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainLove/pseuds/PorcelainLove
Summary: He can’t seem to get Ignis’s words to leave him alone.  Get that sad and knowing look out of his head.Dark eyes are on his mind as he showers.  Fragile bones and thin skin.  Pink lips and red cheeks.  And he wonders what it all means.He’s the Shield of the Prince, of the future King.  These thoughts have no place in his mind.  He has to care but he can’t get attached.





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeejaschocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/gifts).



> This is my first GladNoct fic, so please go easy on me! It's also my first present-tense *attempt* so I'm sure there are tense errors all over but my brain can't handle editing my own work anymore. Please let me know if anything is really awful and I'll try to correct it.
> 
> This fic is a gift that I hope is well-received. :P For my dear Jeejas who requested that I give GladNoct a try. I hope you like it. <3

“I like you.”

The words come in the middle of a throw and Gladio can’t help but continue the motion.  Noctis slams down, breath cutting off as his back makes contact with the padded floor of the training arena.  They both pant for a few moments, Gladio because Noct is getting heavier and the downed Prince because he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

Gladio extends a hand, pulls Noct up from the ground. “I like you too?  Where did that come from?”

Noctis grabs Gladio’s hand, pulls himself up using the muscles Gladio’s training is helping to perfect.  His hand seems to linger a bit longer than usual but Gladio’s tired, hungry, so he’s probably just imagining things.  Besides, training time is over now and there isn’t enough time for questions because someone’s bouncing in the corner and waiting for Noctis to finish.

“…never mind.  It’s cool.  See you tomorrow?”

“Okay…?” Gladio wipes a hand across his sweaty brow, and watches as the boy heads towards the onlooker.  They must know each other well because the slim blond casually wraps his arm around Noct’s shoulders.  He can hear loud laughing at the two wander off. Gladio keeps staring at them, unsure why, and is surprised to see Noctis turn once more to look at him.  Even from this distance Gladio can see his face turn a funny shade of crimson. 

Maybe he was a bit too rough this session. 

A white towel at the corner of his eye catches his attention.  Gladio grabs at it, pulling it out of loose fingers, and dabs at the moisture on his neck.  A drop of sweat travels down his hairline and makes its way towards his eye but a finger catches it before Gladio’s towel can.

“Your guidance appears to be helping Noctis grow stronger.” Ignis’s voice is cool and clear, just the thing Gladio needs to cut through the haze of the exhaustion setting in.

“Yeah, I hope so.  But he’s been distracted lately.”  Gladio settled the towel around his neck and turns to face Noctis’s advisor.  The two of them are not fast friends but their constant proximity has made them closer than simple acquaintances. 

“He cares about you deeply, Gladio. That much is obvious.”  Shirt and pants pressed and starched to perfection, Ignis Scientia is everything Gladio is not, especially at this moment. 

Gladio can feel his tank top stick to his chest.  How his boxers are practically molesting his balls. How his hair is looks like a cat’s ass dragged backwards through Alstor Slough.  But Ignis doesn’t seem to care. He never cares how Gladio looks. It’s refreshing not to have to worry.

“Sure. I care about him too. It’s my job.” 

Ignis gives him a sad look, like he expects better from Gladio, and passes over a cold can of something.  Gladio doesn’t care what it is, Ignis always has excellent taste. 

With these training sessions at the end of the day, Ignis always has a few extra minutes to chat before he heads home.  Usually he’s not this cryptic though.

“Prince Noctis has everything in his life decided for him.  It’s likely exhilarating to be able to decide something for himself.”

Gladio is lost.  But he pretends he understands. “Sure Iggy, whatever you say.  I’m off to change, catch you later.”

The advisor nods and Gladio heads off to the shower room.

Like usual, he’s hard. Workouts do this to him a lot, today is nothing special.  But he can’t seem to get Ignis’s words to leave him alone.  Get that sad and knowing look out of his head.

Dark eyes are on his mind as he showers.  Fragile bones and thin skin.  Pink lips and red cheeks.  And he wonders what it all means.

He’s the Shield of the Prince, of the future King.  These thoughts have no place in his mind.  He has to care but he can’t get attached.

And for the first time, he doesn’t touch himself. 

He goes home, fakes conversation, reads his novels.  Seems normal.

But his sleep doesn’t come easy and his mind whirls like a drunk chocobo.  He considers, assesses, and finally understands the events of the day.  And whispers, wonderingly:

“I think I like you too.”

 

***

 

The next time Noctis says it, Gladio’s ready. 

He’s been waiting for months.  He’s learned that blond’s name: Prompto.  Cute kid, real cheerful.  He’s good for Noctis, brings him out of his shell.  Gladio feels like he never sees Noct alone anymore.  Prompto is always there.  He waits on the sidelines like a cheerleader.

If he wasn’t so sweet Gladio would probably call him desperate.  But he’s not, not at all.  He’s just, well, everything Noct needs.  And he’s got it bad.  Real bad. Gladio’s not usually super observant with these kind of things, obviously, but even he can tell that Prompto’s head over heels.

But Noctis doesn’t notice a damn thing.  He’s got eyes for someone else.

Their sessions at the gym are the closest they ever get to private time.  On the rare occasions that Prompto’s not around, Ignis is.  Gladio can always feel Ignis’s eyes on him.  Like the advisor still sees something he doesn’t.  Like he judges Gladio.  Why else would he stare so much? 

Gladio pins Noctis to the mats, forearm against his throat.  They’re chest to chest and Gladio is happy that Noct is fighting better than he has in the past.  He’ll make a good King. A strong King.  A King he’ll serve with pride.

Noct doesn’t say the words, not exactly.  But his eyes go dark, and Gladio feels the Prince’s heart thump hard.  Fast, and strong, and if he looks carefully, Gladio can see that Noct’s eyes aren’t focusing on his face, but his lips.

There’s a clap from behind them both: training’s over. Gladio gets to his feet with practiced ease.  Noctis stays down a moment longer and Gladio eyes him, makes sure he’s not seriously injured.  There’s a bruise forming on that pale throat, and Noctis cradles his ribs as he gets up.  But there’s something else that draws Gladio’s attention.  The shorts.  They don’t fall like usual, like there’s something solid in the way.

Oh.

Gladio knows he’s been caught when Noct’s eyes meet his.  But there is no embarrassment, no shame.  If anything, Noct looks… amused.

They branch off like usual.  Ignis stays long enough to give Gladio a once-over and pass along something from a new recipe, and then he leaves too.

This time Gladio stays in the shower a long time. He can’t get his Prince out of his mind.  Those muscles that test his patience.  That messy hair that always looks so damn stylish.  Those devilish lips that Gladio suddenly wants to taste.

But he doesn’t touch himself.

 

***

 

It happens again and again for as long as they have peace in Insomnia. 

Every time they train. When they pass each other in the hall.  When everyone’s at Noct’s place for dinner and games. 

The look that Gladio gets.  The one he gives in return. 

It’s like they’ve made a game of it. Flirting.  It’s… fun.  But Gladio knows it can never last.  And not just because they’re both men – that thought never crosses his mind.  Probably wouldn’t even cross King Regis’s mind if he found out.  That’s not the problem here.  If anything, it’s the least of their problems.

Gladio is Noctis’s Shield.  His sworn protector.  His duty comes before anything else.  While he says he’d lay down his life for his friends, both he and they know it’s not technically the truth.  Noctis comes before everyone else – he is _the_ most important person in Gladio’s life. 

That’s partially the reason why Gladio doesn’t even attempt anything past flirting.  It could never work.  If they got along well, no issues ever, that would be one thing.  But if—when they fought? What then?  What if Gladio wasn’t at his best because of one small fucking thing that escalated out of control?  What if Noctis wasn’t hurt, but someone else close to him was – all because Gladio couldn’t control himself?

The Shield isn’t just protection against outside influence.  Isn’t just another faceless man in a mask, easy to replace.  If so, King Regis and his father wouldn’t be such good friends.  The Shield protects against matters of the heart as well.  And Gladio knows what’ll happen if they make a go, no doubt about it. There is no way Noct would come out of this with anything less than a broken heart.

He knows this.  He knows himself.  He doesn’t do things halfway, all or nothing is how he’s wired.  And in this case, nothing was the winner.  But there wasn’t much harm in flirting, was there?

 

***

 

They make it to the day before they have to leave. 

Noct’s getting married in the morning.  Okay, not exactly the morning but it’s the same sentiment.  It’s not his choice and it’s probably not even hers.  Lady Lunafreya.  Gladio wonders what she thinks about all this.  If Noct never had a choice, she didn’t either. 

Gladio can’t imagine what it’d be like to be royalty, to be unable to choose your own life.  How would Iris feel if she came home one day and was told she’d be marrying some stranger?  Gladio’d fight a thousand battles in the arena to prevent that from happening.  He only wishes he could help Noctis, get some final Ignis-type “ _That’s it!”_ moment that could change the course of history for the better.  But he doesn’t. 

“I always liked blondes.” Is all Noctis will say on the subject.  He sounds fine but Gladio knows him better than that.  There’s a dullness in his stance, a sadness in his eyes… but underneath it all, a tiny spark.  Like he’ll do his duty but will take the damn scenic route to that endgame.  That little mischievous streak is something else that Gladio finds so attractive.  Not that it matters because they’re done anyway. 

Nothing ever happened but they’re done all the same.

Noct requests him for a final session their last night in Insomnia.  And Gladio agrees because, well, why wouldn’t he.  The kid’s due to be married, he needs as much stress relief as he can get.  If they end up training late, he can sleep in the car. They both can.  Ignis’ll get them all to the wedding come hell or high water.

The room is dark when Gladio arrives, which isn’t a surprise.  Noctis is never on time and Gladio’s the one who has to set up anyway. 

It’s a hot night.  Gladio shrugs off his jacket when he gets inside, hears it hit the floor with a satisfying noise.  He’s not wearing his customary tank because it’s either in the wash or his travel bag.  He has until tomorrow to figure it out, he’s not worried.

He’s not wearing his usual workout pants either because he was totally in bed when he got the call and he figures that Noct wants to talk more than train.

He really should change jobs.  He’s like a damn Oracle sometimes.

When he flicks on the light he’s surprised to see Noct in the middle of the room.  He’s shirtless too and Gladio tries not to let that affect him.  It’s hard.  Noct’s grown up well, his body looks less like those doughy things he loves to eat so much and more like something out of a skin mag.  And Gladio’s always had a thing for tight, firm bodies.

He’s holding a wooden practice sword and waits long enough for Gladio to drop his workout bag to the ground before rushing forward.  Gladio manages to parry the blow with a forearm and make it to the weapons’ chest before Noctis assaults him again.  This time he’s ready.

The Prince is in constant flux.  Sometimes he looks like he’s barely making any headway and sometimes he’s like this: confident, sure-footed, single-minded.  And Gladio likes being unprepared.  He likes a challenge.

They trade blows back and forth, Noctis with his blade and Gladio with his shield.  How ironic that that’s what he took from the chest.

Soon they’re sweating and panting and Gladio’s kinda regretting not hitting the fan switch the last time their fighting took him past it.  Noct’s got him on his knees, not pulling any punches.  If those swings hit his flesh they’ll mark him up good.  Gladio’s got an apology on his lips because this doesn’t just seem like stress, the boy might actually be trying to kill him. 

 _Boy_ , he says.  But Noct’s twenty.  He’s no more a boy than Gladio is.

Then Gladio sees his chance and takes it.  It takes him a split-second to adjust his stance.  The next blow Noct sends his way glances off the corner of his shield instead of the front and Gladio pushes forward with all his weight.  They both fall to the floor with a crash, Noct’s sword spins out of his hand and across the mats.  Gladio braces with his hands and feet, tosses the shield aside and grins proudly as he bests his student. Again.

But Noct smiles too and it’s not an innocent one. That mischievous look is back and in the time it takes Gladio to notice he’s no longer in control, Noct flips them over. Plants his knees to either side of Gladio’s hips.  Wraps sure hands around sweaty wrists.  Presses a hot kiss to Gladio’s lips.  It feels wrong, but also so right. 

Gladio kisses back.

That one moment is his undoing.  In an instant there are fingers in his hair, on his jaw, at his neck.  They trail down his chest and he aches to remember why he thought this could ever be a bad thing.  But the memories return as Noct’s fingers reach below.  Gladio allows him one squeeze, one firm grip to prove that their flirting was more than just fun, and pulls him off.

“We can’t.” Gladio growls, all fire but no fury because he wants – he wants so bad – but his duty says no.

“Why not?” Comes the retort, all passionate and curious and hot. 

Now Gladio knows he should have put a stop to this long ago because it takes him far too long to respond.  He sits up and drags Noct against his chest, wills himself calm, lets the Prince listen to his heartbeat.  That steady beat used to lull Iris to sleep when she was a child.  But now it doesn’t work. 

“Noct, we can’t do this. You’re getting married.” He prays to the Six that Noctis will understand.  Will stop.  He doesn’t think he has it in him to refuse any more advances. He _wants_ too much.

“An arranged marriage.  Luna doesn’t want to either.”  But Noct sits back and settles down although he keeps his hands over Gladio’s heart.

“It doesn’t matter.  It’s your duty.  And our job to see it through.”

“Why?” It’s a simple question but the answer is hardly easy.  Gladio knows he can go on and on, for hours if he had to, about why this is how it has to be.  But he tries another way.

“Noct, you know I care about you.  You know I like you. Hells, pretty sure that’s not much of a secret at this stage.”

He gets a nod and a smirk and has to force himself not to move forward and capture those playful lips with his own.  He needs to make Noctis understand.

“Noct, we can’t work.  We aren’t meant to be together.  You’re going to marry Lady Lunafreya.  Your duty is to the Crown and your father and your people.  My duty is to follow you, to protect you.”

“It’d be easier to protect me from inside my bedroom, pretty sure.” Noct sure is mouthy when he’s horny.

“Not sure your future wife would approve of you sleeping with the help.” Gladio continues, wry smile at his lips.  He knows Noctis _knows_ all of this already, his willingness to listen means he’s probably hoping for a different outcome than the one he’s already made in his mind.

Now the Prince gets mad.  “You’re not ‘help’.  You’re my friend and I—“ He cuts himself off and bites his lip but the damage is done. Gladio gives the awkward silence a minute before he starts to talk.

“I care about you. I don’t want you to get hurt.  But our lives end differently.  I’ll either live out my life beside you and your Lady and your dozens of babies, or I’ll die an honorable death sacrificing myself for you.  My life is meant for servitude, and it’s a choice I made willingly.  I can’t allow myself to feel anything different.  And no matter what happens, I know I’d end up hurting you.  It’s better to finish this now, today, share the hurt and then grow stronger for it.  You’re tough, you can get past it.  And you can learn to love someone else.”  As he says the word Noctis’s eyes glow, as if he’s excited and destroyed by that oh so important word finally coming out of Gladio’s lips.

“I understand.”  Came the words, finally.  But those teeth gnawing on that bottom lip speak a different story.

“Go home.” Gladio said as he stood up.  “We’ll see each other tomorrow.  Today is the end of all of this.”

“I understand.”  But before Noctis stands up and looks away, Gladio could swear he sees a spark flash in those eyes.

Gladio doesn’t turn around as he heads to the showers.  He’s done fighting.  He just needs to get clean, wash everything away, and get some sleep. 

The lights to the room switch off before he reaches the showers but he doesn’t stumble.  He knows the way too well, wound this same path every day for however many years.  He undresses, lets his clothing fall to the floor because no one’s around to lecture him and he’s too tired to care even if they were.

The warm water washes over his body like a kiss from the Glaceon.  Somehow his body is so hot that anything in comparison seems frigid. 

He can’t get the Prince’s eyes out of his mind.  They glimmer like bottomless pools.  That spark always lights a fire in him that takes ages to set.  But today he doesn’t waste time waiting.  He’s been battling for too long already.  It’s been years now, years of this back and forth, years of holding back.  He’s tired and he aches and he _wants._

He braces one arm against the shower wall and thinks.  He considers Noctis, and his smiles and looks and ‘unintentional’ touches.  He thinks of nimble fingers and a quick mouth.  He imagines a world where they could work. Where duty means nothing and desires are the only things worth having.

And he touches himself. 

He’s hard, harder than he’s been forever.  And hot. A fire burns in his veins that only one man can quench, and that man is now long gone.  Gladio’s alone with his thoughts and his demons and his hands and he plans to use them.  Hate them, but use them.

He thinks he’s going to come undone at the first stroke but his stamina is better than he remembers.  Probably a good thing because after years of waiting, he’s only got this one day – one night – before he’s to purge all unclean thoughts from his mind.

He hears a noise from somewhere behind him.  He ignores it.  The training rooms are quiet at night, obviously.  Too quiet.  Even the smallest sound like a thunderclap.  If the Fulgarian farted from fifty miles away Gladio’d probably die of shock because that’s how well sound carries. It’s probably a leaky pipe or a hungry mouse or a…

There’s a gust of air at his back and suddenly someone’s touching him, holding him, hugging him.  Gladio’s so surprised he doesn’t even let go of what he’s holding.  He’s so well-trained that while he’s aching to flip around and slam that someone into a wall, he’s also analyzing.  The slim body, the tentative touching, the hard cock pressing into his cleft…

A kiss presses into his sore muscles and that settles it, Gladio’d know those lips anywhere.  He’s never been able to chance to touch them but he’s memorized them, traced them hundreds of times over in his mind.  Night or day, blind or dead, there’s no mistaking it: It’s Noctis.

Gladio tries not to roll his eyes like he wants to and spins around to face the Prince.  The spray from the shower hits them both now, and Noct gets a mouthful.  He sputters and tries to back away but Gladio’s got him by the arm and fulfils his earlier desire.  He slams Noct into the shower wall, gently enough so that there’s definitely no pain, but hard enough to show he means business.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  He can’t help but sound angry even though he’s far from it.    He’s done the gentle part, been kind, and now the time for carrots is over.  Noct gets the stick. (Even though Noct would probably find the stick preferable to the vegetable).

Noctis opens his mouth to speak but Gladio doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to see those perfect lips part and break down the paper-thin barrier remaining between duty and desire.

“Noct, we just spoke about this, about why we can’t do this.  You’ve got to stop.  Please.”  Gladio thinks he sounds like he’s begging, his angry voice now pleading instead of demanding.  It’s not optimal but maybe Noct just needs one final shake.  Maybe it’ll work.

It doesn’t.

“I will stop.” Noct says, as he brushes the water from his face.  Droplets cling to his lashes and make them sparkle like jewels.  “But you said we have to end this tonight.  And there’s still time ‘til dawn.  I want…” His eyes slide away from Gladio’s face, dip down to stare at what Gladio now thinks of as his shame.  Noct licks his lips.  And Gladio finally lets go.

He crushes his lips to Noctis’s, desperate and longing.  He presses up against his Prince, hands to either side of dark, glittering eyes.  Boxes Noctis in, surrounds him on all sides.  His arousal is thick and hard and slick between their two bodies.  Noct isn’t quite as ready, quite as frantic, but he’s getting there with every jerky thrust that Gladio can’t help but make.

“One time, and then we never talk about this again.” Gladio manages to get out around lips that soon move to follow his jawline.  “One moment together.”

“Our moment.” Noctis agrees as he grips Gladio’s wrist and brings it to his hot mouth.  Licks the fingertips with a swirl of his tongue.  Lets Gladio shove in two thick fingers and bites at them, sucks at them. Covers the digits in a layer of saliva that clings by a thread as Gladio moves the fingers down to press and massage at a hard nipple.

The Prince flings his head back, and his damp hair sticks to the shower wall now that all the hair gel’s been washed away.  Gladio’s never understood the need for that kinda stuff, he always prefers to go natural.  But Noct is nothing if not royal to the bone.  Even his kisses taste different, like he’s been feasting on behemoth steak and rich chocolate tart.  Well, knowing Ignis and his amazing ability to make the most exotic dishes in the world, it might not be far off.

They only have a short while.  Gladio wants to do anything and everything he can but, reasonably, that’s just not possible.  He’d settle for a night of kissing and teasing if not for the fact that he knew that wasn’t enough. For either of them.

Gladio grabs both of Noctis’s wayward hands in a massive fist and holds them above the Prince’s head, tight against the wall.  He lets his free hand explore downwards, passes the abused nipple still aching for his touch.  He runs blunt nails down developing abs, fingers Noct’s belly button because even though he’s horny as hell, he can’t resist hearing that gasp as the Prince tries to stop a laugh from escaping.

Gladio knows all the Prince’s weak points and it’s a wonder it’s taken him this long to exploit them.

When he finally grabs Noct’s nicely thickened cock by the root, he’s amused by the reaction. It’s like the Prince has never had anyone touch him like this before.  Never this way.  It’s like all the oxygen has left the room because he’s gasping and moaning and twitching this way and that, like it’s too much and at the same time not enough.

He’s not going to last long, not if Gladio has any say about it.

Noct’s hands slip free from loose fingers as Gladio drops to his knees.  The arousal in front of him is in serious need of some attention. It strains upwards, begs for release.  The head is leaking clear fluid that quickly washes away under the water.  Gladio wishes he’d tilted the showerhead away before all this began because he’s dying to taste it, to see if eating healthy does make you taste better.

Bending over helps block the stream of water a bit.  Gladio strokes from root to tip just once, draws out one single drop that he is swift to lick away.  A bit bitter.  He should tell Ignis his theory is correct.

With great care, he presses his hands against Noctis’s thighs, holds tight, and swallows him down.  There’s a bump when it hits the back of his throat and then he pulls off, tongues the slit at the tip of the head, before devouring his prize once more.  It only takes a few bobs before Noct’s hands are in his hair.  They pull and shake and look for an anchor, something to hang onto because it’s almost time.

Suddenly Gladio wants to know, wants to see how his Prince is reacting.  He looks skyward and is happy to see lust-black eyes staring at him, through him.  For a second he almost imagines them as green and doesn’t know why, but then they’re back to black.  As they focus Gladio deliberately swallows, his throat working against the thick cock still inside, milking it.  He keeps his eyes on Noct as the Prince loses control, a sharp gasp his only warning.

Gladio pulls off just in time, lets Noct’s essence hit him in the face.  It paints his lips and his cheeks before dripping down to catch in his beard.  He raises his head so that Noct can see the full effect before the water rinses everything away.  If it’s their first and only time, might as well make it a memorable one.

The Prince’s inner thighs are slightly red from Gladio’s beard and he presses kisses into the tender flesh as lovingly as he can before he stands up.  Noct sways against the wall, eyes glazing over with after orgasm bliss.  But he manages to glance at Gladio’s swaying hard-on and a smirk forms on those tempting kiss-swollen lips.

The Shield stands up, bulk dwarfing the Prince in an instant.  Their eyes meet and Gladio knows he has permission even though no words have been spoken. He pulls Noct off the wall and into a deep embrace, slots his cock between trembling thighs.  He thrusts, an unsteady tempo that also proves how much going down on the object of his infatuation has him off his game.

He shoves his face between the Prince’s head and his shoulder, mouthing the flesh there until it turns pink, the aftereffect of dull teeth and a coarse beard.  Noctis wraps his arms around Gladio’s chest, hugging his back and tightening his body, legs becoming rigid. It’s a wonderful sensation, a tight wet heat that mimics what he really wants to bury himself into.  But no, that’s not the plan.  That’s too much, even for his lust-stupid brain.  There are limits that even he won’t cross with royalty.

It doesn’t take long for him either.  With a growl he digs his teeth into the thick muscle under his lips and _holds_ , Noct’s desperate moan at the combination of pleasure and pain urging him on.  It takes a further few thrusts and then he’s emptying himself too.  Thick, white liquid spurts out from between Noct’s quivering thighs, some dripping down long legs while a few more adventurous globs manage to reach the shower wall.

They’re both panting, exhausted, spent, and try to regain some semblance of brain activity.  Gladio hasn’t felt this out of control since he was a teenager and Noct looks… content.

They pull apart slowly, and Gladio is afraid he’s gone and hurt the Prince because Noct’s rubbing his thighs gingerly and bringing his hand up and… oh… licking his fingers clean.  If Gladio was more of a God he might have been getting hard again.  But he’s only a man, and that is, for the time being, enough.

Silently Gladio grabs the bar of soap from the tray against the wall and lathers up, making sure to wash both himself and the Prince down very well.  He wants to give the Prince one final kiss, one last loving feeling before he can’t anymore but one look at the clock above the doorway stops him. It’s past midnight.  He’s out of time.

They exit and dry themselves off. Noct’s just damn lucky that Gladio thought to pack a spare towel just in case something came up.  And something did, without a doubt, come up.

And then, even though it’s late, even though they have to leave early the next morning – this morning, they talk.

“How’re you feeling?” Gladio asks, voice slightly rougher than usual.  He’s pretty sure he knows the cause.

“Good.  Sore.  Happy, I guess?” Noctis shrugs.

“You guess?”  Gladio isn’t quite sure what that means but he’s also feeling… similar.  Like after all this lusting and anticipation and flirting their moment was just… good.  Nothing wrong with good, of course, but it wasn’t as earth-shattering as he, as either of them, had been thinking.

“Yeah, like…” He pauses for thought. “It felt really awesome but…”

“But you don’t really wanna try again?” Gladio supplies with a raise of his brow.

“Mmm, that.  I hope that’s… not rude.  Like, it felt… I dunno… wrong?  No, that’s too strong… It felt—“

“Not right?”

“Yeah, not right.  As much as that and ‘wrong’ are basically the same thing, they’re also super different, you know?  I’m happy with us, where we are now.  I’m happy with what we did tonight but… I don’t need anymore.”

“I feel the same.  I care about you, Noct, I really do.  But… I love you like a friend, a bratty kid, sometimes a melodramatic asshole.  But I’m not in love with you.  I don’t think I could do this again with someone I didn’t care about.” He spoke the words carefully.  But Noct was nodding his head, agreeing with him. 

“Gods-damn you’re hot as anything, Gladio, and I know you’d take a bullet or a sword for me but… I think you’re meant for someone else.”

“If it helps, there’s a blond that seems really interested in you.  For some dumb-ass reason.” Gladio smirks and it’s contagious because Noct starts to too. And damn if that smile doesn’t light up the whole room.

“Yeah well there’s someone I know who might stare at you more than you realize too.  You oblivious idiot.”   

They both laugh, a calming noise that proves everything is right with the two of them.  It’s taken years to get to this point and considering what they just did together, Gladio is happily surprised at how accepting they both are that it’s finally over.  But Gladio knows his heart just as well as he knows Noct’s. 

They’ll never stop caring about each other, never stop loving each other like slightly dysfunctional family members.  Their love is different than most, and even with the future being unknown and mysterious, they’ll always be able to look back on this moment and smile.  Or at least Gladio knows he will. He hopes Noctis will too.

 

***

 

And then, sometime after Insomnia being gone doesn’t elicit bitter tears in an instant, when Noctis is with his blond, and Gladio is in deep with his green-eyed lover, they do reflect back.  And they smile because they made the right choice, the right decision.

“I like you” is something that never changes between them, even if the course of time alters the meaning of the words just so. 

Friendship might die but love never will, and that’s what Noct and Gladio tell themselves and know in their hearts every day.

And it keeps them going.

And going.

Until the end.

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to everyone who read the bits and pieces of this fic that I shared and urged me on. I hope I did you all proud, if that's even the best word to use. xD
> 
> For any true Gladio/Noctis fans, if I didn't do their relationship justice in your eyes, I'm sorry! I'm a GladNoct virgin. xD
> 
> To those who comments or kudos or even, heck, just give me a hit - thank you. :)


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